Hammer time! (You saw that coming, right?)

Meanwhile, back at the hardware store…
I bought a picture frame. I took it home. I went to hang it up, but I couldn’t find a hammer. I remember one time I cleaned out the hall closet and counted three hammers. Three! In a household of two! But now, when I needed just one, one could not be found.
A few days later The Husband and I went to the hardware store (haha, refer to my previous entry) to buy soil for our new, hopefully soon to be sprouting, vegetable garden. As we walked in, I told The Husband that the cans of soup and the heavy duty stapler I’d been using as a hammer weren’t cutting it anymore. I wanted him to buy me a REAL hammer that was just for me. So that any time I wanted to use it, it would be just where I left it. Not in his car where (it turned out) the other hammers were. And yes, my husband is such a BADASS that he rides around with three hammers in his car. You don’t want to mess with that. (Well, do ya, punk?)
So The Husband leads me to the tool section of the store (Surprise! They have tools at this hardware store!) and asks the clerk very loudly and in his deepest, burliest, manliest voice, “You got any hammers for girls? My wife wants her own hammer.” All the manly men pause for a second to grunt at my husband’s joke and then quickly go back to fondling power tools, spitting, scratching, and you know, all the things manly men do.
Well the joke’s on them because they HAD a “girly” hammer. Behold!
So what if it’s not a standard size, super industrial strength hammer. I’m not planning on building an extension to the house. I’m just hanging some pictures here. And! My hammer has three nesting screwdrivers! No more ruined butterknives! How you like them apples?
It’s so cute and stylish. It fits perfectly in my handbag and matches at least four pairs of my shoes.
I’m going to name it.